


Battle Dress

by rowdyhooligan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: None - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 20:39:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17128361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowdyhooligan/pseuds/rowdyhooligan
Summary: Clothes make the woman, a philosophy Rowena has held to since the days of her youth.





	Battle Dress

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from tumblr: written as part of @thing-you-do-with-that-thing SPN Girl Power Challenge. I had prompt #36 Dressing up (in a sexy way or non-sexy way) with Rowena.

Perfection wasn’t always easy to achieve, but Rowena liked to believe she made it look effortless. Whether it was using her feminine wiles to reel in older, well-off men with piles of money and delicate health, or rescuing those ungrateful brothers from whatever mess they managed to find themselves in, she held to the idea that clothes made the woman.

Cinching a satin robe tight around her slight frame, Rowena dug through the contents of her closet in search of the perfect armor. Yesterday’s lunch date had born fruit, and Daniel- or was his name Dennis- wanted to see her again for dinner at the  _very_  exclusive Greek restaurant in town. She needed to dress accordingly.

The black dress she settled on was a recent acquisition, a gift from her dear, departed Harold or Henry or whatever he called himself. Before his untimely end, he would often compliment her on how the inky material clung to her in just the right way, her creamy skin and red curls vibrant against the dark fabric. It had quickly become a favorite piece in her wardrobe, the sort of dress that would turn heads.

Hanging the garment up to air out, Rowena ran a warm shower, humming strains of  _Scotland the Brave_  as the water heated up. Hotel showers were unfortunately hit-or-miss in her experience, but luck was on her side this time. Soon, she was luxuriating under the strong spray, a content smile tugging at the corners of her lips. One of the many advantages of being over three hundred years old were the marvels of modern plumbing…a far cry from the dirt and grime and muck of her childhood.

There’d been no end to it growing up poor, her clothes and skin forever covered with a fine layer of the filth her father dragged home. She may as well have been part of the dreary scenery for all the attention that was paid to her, all those fine folk who purchased her father’s wares passing her by without a second glance. All that changed, of course, when she discovered her talent for magic, creating a persona that would capture the eye of any who saw her.

Rinsing the bubbles from her hair, Rowena took her time pampering herself under the hot water, a luxury that none in her village would scarcely have been able to imagine, let alone enjoy. Her skin was flushed to a cheery pink by the time she finally emerged from a cloud of scented steam, scrubbed squeaky clean top to toes.

Wrapped in her robe once again, she combed out any knots in her hair, drying the fiery strands until they shone as glossy as a bird’s wings; it wouldn’t do to be seen with hair a mess of tangles and snarls. Her hair was a point of pride- almost a hallmark- one of the first features men would comment on. Fergus’ father had certainly been taken with it, as had many more after him. It was her lure, a flame that brought the rich and lonely to her.

Satisfied once her hair had been coiled and pinned to perfection, Rowena looked over the collection of cosmetics littering the bathroom counter. As a girl, the minister in her village would rail against the prideful vanity of the women who used them, an attitude that pushed her to experiment with rouge and powder, crafting the perfect image for herself. It was with no small amount of vindictive pleasure that she primped and preened before the mirror, her lips nearly as red as her curls, clever eyes bold and framed by fluttering lashes.

Sliding the robe from her shoulders, she daintily stepped free of the fabric pooled at her feet, pulling a pair of silk stockings from her suitcase. Turning to a lingerie set already laid out on the bed, Rowena slipped into a decadent blend of satin, silk, and lace, the garter belt hugging her slender waist just right. The straps dangled freely as she rolled the sheer stockings up her shapely calves, held in place by small silver clasps.

A scandalous scrap of lace masquerading as panties followed, the black material stark against her pale skin. A matching bra came next, adding just enough lift and separation to gain David or Derek or whoever he was attention. The dear man would practically be salivating when he saw her…which was precisely what she wanted, of course. She’d learned long ago that if a man is thinking with one head, he won’t be using the other, making him all the easier to beguile.

A sinful vision in black satin and lace, it was time for the final piece of armor. The cool glide of silk caressed her body as she tugged the dress on. It rippled on an invisible breeze with her every move, draping artfully around her curves. The skirt swirled around her legs, a long slit allowing for just a peek of flesh, a tantalizing glimpse of what lay beneath. Zipping up the tiny side zipper, Rowena tugged the neckline just low enough to show off the rounded tops of her breasts, frowning slightly at the bare expanse of skin: a little decoration was in order.  

Rooting around in a small jewelry box, she searched for the perfect piece to complete the ensemble. Something understated, yet eye catching was the way to go. Her eyes landed on a simple necklace of silver, a bright emerald dangling from the delicate chain. Chic, sophisticated, and guaranteed to bring out her eyes, it was exactly what she needed. Clasping it around her neck, the necklace hung perfectly between her breasts, sure to draw Douglas’ eye.

Her phone buzzed. A message flashed across her screen from Darren- Darren!- letting her know how eager he was for tonight, and that his car was on its way. Biting back a smirk, Rowena replied with assurances that she was just as anxious for their dinner together, her text full of fawning words. Darren ate it up, already suggesting another dinner together on his private yacht, an offer Rowena was quick to accept.

Setting the phone aside with yet more reassurances, Rowena dug her shoes out from under the hotel bed, slipping into the heels with a smile. If she was going to be seeing this man again, that would require padding her wardrobe a bit. There were a number of fashionably snooty boutiques to choose from, where her every whim would be catered to by eager girls working on commission.

With plans for a little shopping trip forming in her mind, Rowena grabbed her clutch bag and gave herself a final inspection. Gone was the scared girl of her youth, ignored by all those around her- she would never be that girl again. In her place was one of the most powerful witches alive, a temptress of a woman impossible to miss staring back at her.

Dabbing a bit of perfume on her neck and décolletage, she smoothed out invisible wrinkles from her dress and flashed a satisfied smile at her reflection- no one would be able to overlook Rowena MacLeod. Not a single hair was out of place, no unsightly lint clung to her gown. Armored and ready for whatever the day had to throw at her, she was ready to conquer the world.  

“Fabulous.”


End file.
